We went away as a family for the last couple of days. Having been forbidden to write about that part of my life you’ll never know the joy experienced by one and all. What you will get is a glimpse of what life’s like when two adults are limited in their adult-like behavior due to the proximity of someone a tad less adult.
We did get to do a good chunk of yard work so that was good. Of course, in life, where there is good there must be things not so good. And, to me, one of those things is shopping. I know I’ve mentioned my hatred for all things shopping so I won’t bore you with the fact that a local chain, Christmas Tree Shop, sucks the souls of men and mixes it into a blender on frenzy. I’ve petitioned they rename the chain, Carries Total Shit. I’ve yet to hear back from them.
Soul sucking bastards.
So you can understand my joy when we traipsed from store to store in search of I DON’T FUCKING KNOW! To the best of my knowledge, and I’m pretty knowledgeable for an idiot, there was no specific reason to be in any of these stores. It’s a good thing I’ve had so many concussions. I can black out at the drop of an anvil (makes living next to The Acme Corporation anvil test grounds very convenient).
At one store I’m sitting alone in a room staring at my feet. Don’t get me wrong, I felt blessed to have the seat and solitude but I’d much rather have been having steak and suds. I’m sitting in the room for between five and fifty-six minutes when a couple of women walk in. They’re looking around and one walks towards me.
“I’m not for sale.” They laugh and one of them says,
“Pity. I was going to ask the saleswoman about you.”
“What would you say? How much is that weird looking guy-like statue? I have some crows in my yard I want to frighten.”
They laugh again, but, more importantly, exit leaving me to my sneaker watching.
But, sometimes the numbness doesn’t fully take over. I find myself coming to while wandering aimlessly through some random store. When that happened yesterday I found myself in an antique store. I think what brought me to was that antique store smell. The way I can best describe the smell would be to say it’s probably what John Wayne Gacy’s house smelled like before his arrest.
But, because I’m a dutiful boyfriend and I’ve already found that being in one place for too long brings buyers, I wander. It was during this wandering at the antique store I was handed my old-timers badge.
Right there, on the shelf, was a copy of a book I’d been featured in. I’ve seen it in used book stores (where, if no ones looking, I sign my bits) but to see something with your work in it in an antique store sure makes you want to break out the prune juice and depends.
The book in question (because I know someone would ask) is an awesome tome entitled ‘The Best Of The Best American Humor’ from the editors of Funny Times. It can be purchased at many places on line including http://tinyurl.com/4htvxv or at an antique store in Dennis, MA.